Category Archives: youth

Zagreb: Ideas and Images

A firm handshake, 1 second, 2 seconds. Eye contact. Straight. Sincere. Little blinking, every now and then. The coffee arrives on the table. The usual glass of cold water as well. You light a cigarette with a match. Inhale.  Breathe out in the clear summer air. Sunglasses disturb your vision, do not use them. The book is almost over, you read it for weeks and weeks now. Clearly. It looks like being tossed around too often. You like that idea. Smile secretly. A smile. The most honest thing one has to offer. You take a sip of water, while letting the spoon find its way to the bottom of the coffee. A small pack of sugar accompanies your cup. Do not open it. Coffee wants to be pure. The cigarette in the ashtray keeps burning down. You take a hasty pull and start reading. Lose yourself in a book. Trams keep speeding by, so do people. You look up, once in a while. People change. Your coffee gets cold. You still drink it. Cold coffee: a metaphor for time leaps on rusty chairs in moments of pure alienation. Detached from notions.

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how the age outgrew me

I have been a passionate football supporter for many years now (and still plenty to come from here). Throughout most of these years, I was lucky enough to still be of a certain age here most players I’d know and even see in town every now and then would be somewhat older than me, more experienced than me and, well yeah, much much cooler than I could ever expect to become! For the greater part of these years, I’d dedicate my “childish” passion to those players aged 28 – 30+, because they were much older, much more talented but would also say the occasional “hey” in the city center, giving me a good feeling about myself.
In short, I saw people I could idolize, very important at the time being when a youngster like me longed for identity and recognition.

Today, however, I wake up, seeing most players just graduating from school, starting a (professional) career or playing football at the side. And let’s face it, they are all much younger than me. A personal connection to any of them is not possible for me anymore, though I would not deny any.
The youth outgrew me, making me see football less a passion with people I’d define as “special cool guys” but a bunch of youngster willing to play for money/fame/fun who might even see me as a person of an indefinable older generation soon. Which is good, I reckon. After all, it is not the players that I should idolize, but the team I am passionate about. Players are just a commodity for a much wider plan. i do realize that now.
But I had to outgrow first…


I am in “Zavood” on Monday, I am in “Zavood” on Tuesday and of course on Friday, too

Finally, I became an ERASMUS student! It has been 7 days since my German flat mates arrived. Yes, I said Germans, coz now 4 out of 5 people living here actually are from this country. However, it is much fun. We all speak English with each other at all times, disregarding our national language. But since approx. 40% of all ERASMUS students living in this house speaks German, I will run no fear of losing my national identity.

Now, despite this huge amount of Germans (and btw, I met a guy from Oldenburg), we have people from pretty much all over the world living here. Mainly European (guess what ERASMUS might stand for) though, but there are people from the US, Canada and even the UK. So it is really international.

Being an ERMAUS student is sooooo much fun! It basically involves drinking at evenings, eating out at night and dancing in the mornings. And in the way people say that “all roads lead to Rome” the young people of Tartu have a saying that “all people end up in Zavood”! It is so true! Zavood is the last place of the dark, a marvelous spot to end a great night out. I have been there only three times but each time I ended up there, I met a bunch of fantastic people who are most willing to talk to me for ages and ages. Despite those 1 or 2 misleading creatures that consider my national heritage as something heroic, I have so far not encountered anybody who was not thrilled by me.